


A meeting with the queen

by aussiemel1



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aussiemel1/pseuds/aussiemel1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two days after the siege of Atlantis is lifted, the Colchean army defeated, Pasiphae requests a meeting with Jason. What harm could there be in meeting with her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A meeting with the queen

**Author's Note:**

> Set after A New Dawn, Part II. It goes off-canon near the end.
> 
> I wrote this story a while back and I still like the idea behind it, of Pasiphae making overtures to Jason, trying to tempt him into joining her, and he being completely flummoxed as to why. Hmm, I should have used the word flummoxed in the story, that's a fun word.

The men ate their evening meal in awkward silence. At least Pythagoras felt awkward, Hercules and Jason seemed entirely oblivious, lost in their own thoughts. Two days after the siege of Atlantis had been lifted, the Colchean army defeated, life was definitely not back to normal. Jason was brooding and sour, which was understandable given the decisive rebuff delivered by Ariadne, extinguishing any hope of a future together, and his mood not helped by the archer's wound in his side which was proving slow to heal after the aggravation of battle. But Hercules was of a similar temper, and Pythagoras couldn't quite fathom it. He had considered many theories about what might be troubling the big man but could only speculate that the events of the past week, the near disaster to both them and Atlantis, must have taken a toll and shaken him to the core.

"It's lucky that we weren't looted," Pythagoras mused out loud, trying to fill the silence. "We didn't have a lot on the shelves but it should be enough to feed us for the next few days. After that we may have to travel outside the city for food, until the streets returns to some order and the merchants start selling again."

"Hmm," Jason agreed half-heartedly and Pythagoras was grateful for even that small effort.

All of them were startled by a knock at the door. They exchanged a tense glance before Hercules rose to answer. It was uncommon for people to call at this hour, even more so with the city in disarray, misfortune seemed to bring out the worst, looting and violence was wide-spread, and it was no accident that the largest of them answered.

Hercules opened the door and took a step back to reveal a dark haired woman.

"I'm looking for Jason," she said, eyes searching the room and when they settled upon Jason she seemed to know he was her intended, even though they had never met. "The Queen requests your presence."

Jason's brows flew up in hopeful delight. "Ariadne?"

A look of distaste flitted across the woman's face. "Queen Pasiphae."

There was a moment of stunned silence, which Pythagoras broke by pointing out, "Technically, Pasiphae is no longer queen."

The woman ignored the comment, reached into her tunic and produced a folded parchment with a waxed seal, which she proffered in the direction of Jason. He rose from the table and took the few steps toward her to accept the parchment.

"Pasiphae wishes to see me?" Jason asked in confusion, as he examined the seal, then broke it to disclose the contents of the letter, which was only a few lines revealing nothing more than that Pasiphae requested his presence.

While Jason was distracted by the missive, Hercules asked the woman, "And who exactly are you?"

"Medea."

"Oh yes, the great Medea," Hercules commented sarcastically. "How did we not recognize you?"

Medea gave him a withering glare. "I am a princess of Colchis, blood to Pasiphae."

"Right." Hercules put a hand on her shoulder and turned her toward the door.

"Wait." Jason shot out a hand, pressed restraining fingers against his friend's forearm.

"If she is blood to Pasiphae then she is no friend of ours," Hercules pointed out.

"I know, but just… wait," Jason said evenly, and Hercules clicked his tongue in annoyance, eased his pressure on the woman but kept a benign hand on her shoulder. Jason studied Medea cursorily. His entire experience with princesses was Ariadne, and this woman appeared disheveled, her garments were dust covered, unkempt, her hair was unfashionably matted and tied to one side, and she lacked the grace and femininity of Ariadne. Indeed she wasn't equal to Ariadne in any way, which made him wonder if she really was as she claimed. She looked more like a warrior. "Why does Pasiphae want to see me?"

"I don't think we need to know," Hercules commented in exasperation, desperate to get the woman out the door before something was spilled about Jason being Pasiphae's son.

The woman regarded Jason evenly, her eyes sizing him up as much as he had her. "She wishes to offer peace to Atlantis."

Jason furrowed his brow, shook his head in bewilderment. "I can't… That is nothing to do with me. She should speak with someone from the palace."

"She will only speak to you," Medea insisted.

Jason took a dazed step backward and Medea felt herself being edged toward the door again. She added quickly, before she could be dismissed, "Meet me at dawn, through the main gate to the edge of the forest and I will take you to Pasiphae. If you care about Atlantis you will come."

"Not happening," Hercules stated, and finally managed to shift Medea far enough that he could close the door on her.

The men gazed at each other, Hercules grim, Jason uncertain and Pythagoras wide-eyed. Jason moved back to the table, sat slowly down and ran a hand pensively across his mouth.

"That was odd," Pythagoras commented, in his usual understated manner.

"Yes, it was," Jason agreed, and lifted his eyes to Hercules in silent question.

"Don't even think about it," the big man said. "Pasiphae is defeated. There is no need to meet with her. Lets not speak of it further."

"Peace with Atlantis…" Jason began.

"No!" The vehemence in Hercules tone surprised his friends.

But Jason didn't heed the warning tone, too used to his friend's sudden burst of anger, and persisted, "Surely there can't be any harm in meeting with Pasiphae, seeing what she has to say."

"There can be harm," Hercules growled, and the Oracle's words _his heart will blacken_ echoed in his mind. If Pasiphae was minded to tell Jason who he really was, it could mean disaster. "Obviously, Pasiphae means to execute you."

"What?" Jason's eyes widened in alarm. "What makes you say that?"

"Think about it. You were instrumental in her defeat. If she disposes of you then her chances of taking Atlantis are much improved next time she tries."

Jason digested that for a moment, considering the sense in it.

"I don't think that's it," Pythagoras offered thoughtfully, and Hercules pressed his lips tight in discontent. "The timing is all wrong. Her army was soundly defeated only a few days ago, she must be travelling with a very small retinue and quite poorly guarded. Given Jason's skill there is real danger in meeting with him. He could kill her as easily as she could kill him. I think she really does mean to speak with him, although whether it's about peace with Atlantis or something else I couldn't say."

"Nonsense," Hercules spat.

"Surely she wouldn't be so devious as to lure me under the false pretenses?" Jason ventured.

"Are you kidding?" Hercules exclaimed. "It's Pasiphae!"

"There is some honour in royal blood," Pythagoras stated, trying to offer a balanced view.

"The whole thing is a set up and a trap and I'll hear no more about it," Hercules roared. "I'm going to the tavern." He stormed out, slamming the door behind him before another word could be spoken.

"That was unhelpful," Pythagoras muttered.

Jason nodded mutely, wishing his friend had remained because he was deeply conflicted about the course of action he should take and would have liked the opportunity to collectively discuss the matter further.

As if reading his thoughts, Pythagoras asked, "What will you do?"

"I don't know," Jason admitted, grim-faced.

* * *

"What do you want?"

The Oracle was curt, she sounded annoyed by the interruption, on her haunches before a low altar gazing at the contents of a bowl, and Jason considered saying _Nothing, don't worry about it_ and slinking away, but instead took a breath and said, "I need your advice."

The woman turned sharply, her eyes softened when they alighted on him and a smile ghosted her lips. Jason couldn't understand why she always seemed pleased by his presence.

"Of course."

Jason took a few steps toward her, then ducked his head self-consciously not sure how to begin. She waited patiently for him to speak, shifting a little on her knees to face him. "Pasiphae wants to meet with me."

The Oracle frowned. "I see."

Jason expected her to say more, tell him whether it was a good idea or not, but instead she gazed impassively at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I don't know if I should go." He flicked his eyebrows up and down, and suddenly felt lame, weak. Surely he could decide whether to meet someone without the guidance of a seer. All the lofty talk of his destiny and he needed to consult with her on the smallest matter.

The Oracle got a far away look in her eye, considered for a moment. "I can see the future two ways. I cannot tell you which road to take."

"Can you tell me if one road is better than another?" Jason probed, his tone light.

The humour was lost on the Oracle, she regarded him seriously and said, "Whichever road you take, the Gods will be by your side. But you must be wary of Pasiphae. She presents danger to you that is beyond the physical."

And on that alarming note, she turned her attention back to the altar, effectively dismissing him.

Jason floundered for an uncertain moment, taken aback by the abruptness of the conversation end.   He knew from experience that no amount of coaxing would sway the woman to say more, she had a strange habit of making an oblique statement and not being drawn on it, refusing to explain further. As he quietly withdrew he tumbled her words through his head, and interpreted the advice to mean whether he met with Pasiphae or not, he would be okay, the Gods would be with him. But he wasn't sure about the warning. Not at all sure what danger beyond the physical might be. And it actually resolved him to meet with Pasiphae. If she posed an unknown threat, he wanted to know about it. And he would provide a full report to Ariadne on his return.

* * *

Pythagoras and Jason waited tensely at the edge of the forest, the sun just peeking above the horizon, bathing the earth in an orange glow. For two men full of nervous energy they were remarkably still. Their mood was somber. Hercules hadn't returned from the tavern last night and they were making the journey without him. Pythagoras had suggested that they collect Hercules as they made their way out of the city but Jason refused. He didn't want to pressure his friend into going on a mission he so obviously disagreed with.

As the sky lightened by degrees, Jason drew his sword, aware that someone was approaching, the crunch of leaves underfoot giving them away. The forest was dangerous. It had always been a haven for thieves but currently it also sheltered men from Pasiphae's defeated army, those who had chosen not to follow Pasiphae into exile, and who sought to gain violent reward after being denied the spoils of war.

"Don't speak to me," Hercules warned, jogging up to them with a raised hand. "I am in bad humour."

"Average day then," Pythagoras retorted, stifling a grin.

Jason looked like he might hug his large friend, the delight in his face as he dimpled a smile was enough to soften the hardest heart.

"Don't get mushy," Hercules said with forced gruffness, secretly thrilled that Jason was pleased to see him. "I want it on record that this is the worst idea you've ever had."

It only made Jason smile wider that his friend had decided to accompany him anyway.

"Follow me," Medea hissed, alarming the group, who had been distracted to her approach. They all started after her but she stopped abruptly. "Just Jason," she demanded. "The Queen only wishes to speak to Jason. I am to deliver him."

"No way," Hercules returned emphatically.

"Please stop calling her the Queen," Pythagoras pleaded. "It is very confusing."

"He's not going anywhere alone," Hercules insisted.

Medea looked at Jason with barely concealed annoyance, hands on her hips, willing him to dismiss his friends.

"I'm not going anywhere alone," Jason echoed, and flicked a conspiratorial smile at Hercules.

Medea huffed an angry breath, pursed her lips together and considered her options. But after a moment she turned, and continued leading without further argument. Hercules drew up behind his friend and slapped him on the shoulder with an approving grin.

They walked longer than the men had anticipated. A full day, and still they were not at Pasiphae's camp. Hercules complained long and hard about the lack of horses. And the further they drew away from Atlantis, the more nervous Jason became that Pasiphae was planning something against the city in his absence. Whatever it might be, she wouldn't succeed in a day, especially with her army so depleted, but if they were still walking at lunch time the next day, he fully intended to call a halt and head back.

In the early hours of the morning, while the rest of the party slept, Jason sat propped against the trunk of a large tree gazing into the embers of the dying fire. Alone with his thoughts he couldn't shake the despair that gripped him, that visited him often in the quiet hours. He struggled with the enormity of his destiny. Atlantis sank into the ocean! History was already written. Was it even possible to change that outcome? How could that rest on him?  It was an incredible burden.

And then his thoughts skipped to Ariadne's stinging words.   _You are not of royal blood_.  They went round and round in his head and the finality of her pronouncement left him desolate. He felt foolish at how heartsick he was, like a love-struck child, barely able to function in the past few days, but he had been so certain of their future together. He had honestly believed that a love so great would conquer any obstacles, and it crushed him that she did not share that view. Disappointed him.

His reflection was interrupted by a noise in the dark. He tensed, strained his senses, and heard footsteps approaching, too careful to be that of an animal. He grabbed his sword and tip-toed to where Hercules and Pythagoras lay. He knelt beside them, rested his sword against his knee, and placed a hand over each mouth, pinching their nose until they sputtered, gasping for air. Not a pleasant way to awaken but efficient and effective.

"We have company. Grab your sword," Jason whispered, and moved to where Medea lay.

He didn't know the woman well enough to deprive her of air so he put a hand to her shoulder, but before he could shake she jerked upright and held a knife to his throat. Jason raised his hands submissively, and in a few seconds she became aware of her surroundings and lowered the knife.

"Men are approaching," he murmured.

Jason moved quietly back to where his friends stood. He was dismayed to hear noise all around, that they were surrounded.

"Should we run?" Hercules muttered.

"We're surrounded," Jason returned.

"How many?"

Before Jason could answer the first attackers broke through the trees. The men were dressed in common clothes but as Jason clashed swords he could tell they were skilled at fighting, trained soldiers. He deflected their strikes and dispatched two of the men in quick succession, then flicked a glance to his friends to make sure they were not overwhelmed.  Both Hercules and Pythagoras had improved greatly at hand to hand combat and were proving a match for the attackers, giving as good as they got. He tried to locate Medea in the melee, gravely concerned for her safety. He saw her finally, pressed against a large tree and after downing another attacker he rushed to her side.

"You should run," he urged. "We'll catch up with you later. Head north."

He twisted to face another assailant, ducking and weaving before slashing the man to the bone. And then his head exploded in pain as he was dealt a heavy blow from behind. He tried to turn, to meet the unexpected threat, but too quickly darkness overcame him and he fell limply to the ground.

* * *

As awareness slowly returned to Jason he was determined not to move or make a sound so that at if anyone were nearby he might take them by surprise. He cinched open his eyes and was almost undone by the agony of the light trying to split his head in two. He dropped his lids and took a moment to better prepare himself, steel himself for the sunshine.

It occurred to him that many hours must have passed since the attack in the forest, it had been dark then. And it also occurred to him that only Medea could have delivered the blow that felled him.  He felt greatly aggrieved by that. He had been trying to protect her and she had rewarded him with betrayal. He was disturbed by her uncommon strength, he wouldn't have believed any woman could fell a man with one blow. And it seemed unnecessary. They were following Medea quite agreeably, it seemed needless that they should be brought to Pasiphae senseless. But perhaps Pasiphae had been concerned that Jason and his friends might descend on her camp with swords drawn, which had never been their intention.

Through narrowed eyes he discovered that he was in a tent. A large tent, with a high ceiling. And the contents were surprisingly lavish, the bed linen was embroidered and richly coloured, a nearby chair was upholstered in silk or some such material, it looked expensive. His gaze slowly ranged the room, taking in all the details, then cautiously he turned his head so that he could study the other side. He almost choked when he saw Pasiphae just beyond arm's length, sitting at a writing desk poring over a parchment. He realized with horror that he must be lying in her quarters!

He shifted his fingers slightly, feeling for the sword at his hip, and wasn't surprised to find it absent. He momentarily considered jumping up and putting his hands around Pasiphae's throat, taking her by surprise and squeezing the life out of her, but it seemed brutal and unworthy of him.   And no doubt guards were posted at the entry, ready to come to her aid.

He shuttered his lids in dismay. It had never occurred to him that he might speak to Pasiphae privately. Diplomacy was not his forte. Hercules was the talker, Pythagoras dispensed logic, Jason was… His foggy brain couldn't quite figure out what his role in the group was, but he wasn't the talker, he was sure of that. He felt the lack of his friends keenly.

"Jason?"

He stiffened. Pasiphae must have noticed the change in his position.  He debated momentarily whether to feign sleep, not feeling ready for a confrontation, but reluctantly opened his eyes.

"Where are my friends?" he demanded, forestalling anything she was about to say, and putting as much menace into his tone as he could muster.

"Your friends are unimportant," Pasiphae returned.

"No, they aren't."

He lifted himself agilely to a sitting position, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and refused to betray any sign of discomfort, fixing her with a steady gaze.

"They are elsewhere in the camp," she waved her hand dismissively. "I will have them brought to you later."

"I want to see them now."

He didn't trust her. He had a sinking feeling that they might be dead. Suddenly he realized the danger in this adventure wasn't to him, it was to his friends, who were entirely expendable. He wished that had occurred to him before they had begun the journey, he might have done things differently, drugged them perhaps so that they couldn't follow.

She regarded him coolly. "Are we really going to argue over a pair of nobodies when we could be discussing peace for Atlantis?"

"Yes." Her jaw twitched, unimpressed by the disagreeableness.  "I will not discuss anything with you until I see my friends," he declared decisively, unapologetically.

She blinked, unsure of his humour, if he really intended to stall her with such a petty concern. "Come now," she reasoned, "we have important matters to speak of."

At his stubborn quiet and petulant expression she drew an irritated breath, and glowered at him with a ferocity that would have cowed the bravest man, but Jason refused to be intimidated, his friends too important for him to back down. He matched her glare until, after long, tense seconds, she dropped her fist on the table.

"This is beyond reason," she reproached, dark eyes flashing.  "I have invited you here to broker peace and you are focussed on the whereabouts of your companions?"

"They are important to me."

"And how important to you is peace for Atlantis?"

They descended into silence, at an impasse, neither willing to give ground, until Pasiphae forcibly composed herself, contorted her face into an unwilling smile. "Fine, I will have your friends brought to you." Her features were diamond hard as she added, "Do not expect me to be so accommodating in all our discussions."

She rose from the writing table, her fingers gripping tightly at the material of her dress, lifting the skirt as she strode to the entrance, passing through without a backward glance.

Jason pressed the heel of his hand to his brow. His head ached. It had him at a disadvantage, hard to think through the pounding. He had never engaged in conversation with Pasiphae before and was appalled by the latent menace she exuded. How could someone who looked so lovely be so terrifying? He thought about Ariadne, living in the palace with Pasiphae for many years, and gained a new appreciation for how unpleasant it must have been.

If he was to converse with Pasiphae again, he knew he would be greatly out of his depth.

* * *

"This is a pickle." Hercules looked at Pythagoras, manacled and confined in a too small cage.  A fate which Hercules shared.  "Anything triangular that might get us out of this predicament?"

"I don't think so," Pythagoras replied dubiously.

"Just thought I'd ask."

After a pause, Pythagoras' face wrinkled in concern. "Do you think Jason's okay?" 

"Better than us I'd wager."

"Really? He didn't look very well when we last saw him."

"He'll be taken care of."

Pythagoras frowned, not sure if his friend was just spouting empty platitudes. "What makes you say that?"

"Just a hunch."

Pythagoras considered for a minute, confused by the assuredness in Hercules' tone.  "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No."

"Why would you think Jason is okay?"

"No reason."

"You argued that Pasiphae wanted to execute him."

"She probably has."

"No." Pythagoras shook his head. "You don't really believe that. What aren't you telling me?"

"Pasiphae is Jason's mother," Hercules blurted.  He couldn't help himself, he needed to share the burden of knowledge with someone, it weighed heavily on him. And the Oracle had only said Jason must not know, she didn't say anything about Pythagoras knowing.

Pythagoras's mouth dropped open, stunned. "How could you not tell me?"

"I only found out a few days ago," Hercules replied defensively.

"And you are sure it is true?"

Hercules nodded. "The Oracle told me."

Pythagoras absorbed the information. Suddenly Hercules behavior over the past few days made sense. "That's why you've been such a bear."

"Not a bear," Hercules protested. "Just concerned."

"Aggressively concerned," Pythagoras muttered, then returned to his pragmatism. "We have to tell Jason."

"No! The Oracle made it very clear that he cannot know. Something about his heart turning black. He cannot know Pythagoras."

The younger man furrowed his brow. "Well that is… inconvenient. He really should know."

"I thought so too, but the Oracle was very definite on the matter." Hercules grimaced. "I can only hope Pasiphae isn't trying to welcome him to the family right now."

"Pasiphae knows?"

"Yes."

Pythagoras pressed his lips together. "That doesn't seem right. She has him at a disadvantage."

Hercules could only shrug, dropping the conversation as soldiers drew toward them. The cages were on the outskirts of the camp, beyond the tents, there was no passing traffic, so the men coming near had to be headed for them.

"Do you think they're bringing breakfast?" Hercules queried, out the side of his mouth.

Pythagoras doubted it very much. He tensed as the soldiers came closer, but if their purpose was to slaughter them in the cage then really there was little defensively he could do.

When the men stopped in front of them Hercules said brightly, "Good morning gentleman. I trust you've brought us a fine breakfast?"

One of the men snorted derisively, and both cages were unlocked. Pythagoras and Hercules were hauled out, but the manacles remained in place around their wrists. They were given no opportunity to stretch their cramped limbs before being marched toward the camp.

* * *

Pasiphae swept into the tent without announcement, finding Jason lounging against her writing desk with arms folded.

"Your friends, as requested."

Hercules and Pythagoras were thrust into the room with an unnecessary roughness that made them sprawl to the floor.

Jason blew out a breath, his shoulders sagged in relief. He had to steady himself against the writing table so great was the release of tension. "Are you alright?"

"They are alive," Pasiphae replied tartly. "Which is more than they deserve. Now we have business to discuss."

Jason pressed his lips together unhappily. "I want them returned to Atlantis."

"Jason," Hercules growled in reproach.

Pasiphae took two quick steps toward Jason. "I will not hear any more demands from you," she hissed. "The safety of your friends is at my leisure and we will discuss business or I will have them executed."

Jason's eyes glittered with fury, the muscles at his jaw clenched, and the dark expression caused the guards to drop hands to their swords, fearful of violence upon the queen.

"What would you like to discuss?" Jason finally conceded, through gritted teeth.

The queen slid her eyes to the shackled men slowly getting to their feet.  "Remove the prisoners," she barked at a guard.  "We shall talk in private."

"No!" Jason returned quickly. Last thing he wanted was another private audience with the woman, there was strength in having his friends close.  "You may speak in front of my friends, I share everything with them."

Pasiphae frowned mildly, shot the men a dubious glance.

"I insist that they remain," Jason pressed.

Irritation skimmed across her face, her features sharpened, aging her, making her look cruel but after a moment of hesitation she softened into unwilling resignation. "If you insist.  I have a proposition for you. I will renounce all interest in Atlantis, if you will be my second in command."

"No," Hercules responded automatically.

Pasiphae fixed him with a scathing glare, then returned her eyes expectantly to Jason.

"No," Jason echoed, reeling at the offer, blindsided by it. He had anticipated some written, formal proposal that he was deliver to Ariadne, not that Pasiphae's offer would be directed to him.

She gave him a reproachful look. "Don't be a fool. I'm offering peace to your beloved Ariadne. And opportunities that you will never receive in Atlantis."

"I see that," Jason replied cautiously, trying to choose his words carefully. "And I am flattered that you value me so highly."  He frowned slightly as he said the words, not quite sure _why_ Pasiphae valued him so highly, what she thought she might gain from his service.  "But my future lies in Atlantis."

"No, it doesn't Jason," Pasiphae returned earnestly.  "Your loyalty is misplaced." She gave him a cold, unruffled smile. "I think perhaps you need time to consider the offer. I think perhaps you have failed to grasp its value."

"I think perhaps you overestimate the threat you pose," Jason returned.

Pasiphae threw back her head in genuine amusement and clapped her hands together. "I know exactly the threat I pose. Which is why you would do well to reconsider my offer."

She turned to the guards and nodding toward Hercules and Pythagoras instructed, "Return those two to the cages. And find more suitable accommodation for Jason." She gave her secret son a last look. "We will speak again," she promised, and left.

Jason had a knife hidden in his wrist cuff that he had discovered among Pasiphae's jewels. She must have forgotten it was there or surely she would not have left him alone. Or perhaps she hadn't expected him to be so ill mannered as to paw through her personal items. As the guards picked up his friends he sorely wished to use the weapon.  But he knew he needed to be patient, that he should wait until the camp was unsuspecting before making any hostile moves. He was rigidly still as his friends were manhandled out of the tent, and to their credit, they did not seem to expect anything of him. They too knew that timing was everything. He bade them silent apology with his eyes, and resolved to rescue them as soon as he could.

* * *

Medea saw Pasiphae leaving her tent, and hurried over to draw into step with her.

"How was your meeting with Jason?"

Pasiphae glanced at her niece, but didn't slow her pace, and replied bitterly, "He is a child. No sense at all. I need to remove him from his friends, they exert way too much influence over him."

"Is Jason your son?"

Medea was taken aback by her own bluntness, she usually displayed more tact around her aunt. But until three days ago Medea didn't even know Pasiphae had a son. And it all added up, her aunt's barely contained emotion when she saw a curly headed man dead in the streets of Atlantis, her knifing of an archer who was about to let fly on the Atlantis force.

Pasiphae stopped, looked at Medea in surprise, flicked her eyes left and right to see if anyone was nearby, and replied, "Yes."

Medea was startled by the honesty. "Oh.  I see."

Pasiphae drew close to Medea, and spoke in a low tone so as not to be overheard. "Jason doesn't know. And I don't wish for him to know, not yet anyway. I need to draw him closer before we speak of blood." Pasiphae looked sternly at her niece. "Promise me you will say nothing of this. To Jason or to anyone."

"Of course."

Medea didn't follow as Pasiphae strode away. She needed time to reflect upon the implications of Jason being a relation. She felt a twinge of guilt that she had knocked out her own cousin, but it had been necessary. Jason and his friends were supposed to be in drugged sleep when Pasiphae's disguised guards came to collect them, but Hercules had refused to let her anywhere near the food or water, not trusting her, which as it turned out was wise. But it had meant an unexpected and unintended battle had ensued, and Medea had used one of her strongest spells to incapacitate Jason, knowing that when he fell, his friends would capitulate, which they did.

And even though she had suspected that Jason might be Pasiphae's son, the certainty of it changed everything. The possibilities both thrilled and dismayed her. To have Jason as an ally would be amazing, the skill and confidence he could bring to their camp would be immeasurable. He could help bathe their family in glory. But his enmity could prove their undoing. If he continued to oppose Pasiphae, it was a threat she was unwilling to neutralise.

As Medea rounded a corner, she almost crashed into a guard, and saw that he was one of two escorting Jason.

"Excuse me Highness," the guard apologised deferentially.

"My fault," she graciously returned.

She held Jason's eyes for a moment, seeing him differently, trying to find Pasiphae in his features. He regarded her icily and remained silent as he passed, perhaps not trusting what might come out of his mouth. Medea wondered if they could ever enjoy a friendly relationship after such an inauspicious start.

* * *

Jason was conducted to a more modest tent, the quarters of a soldier on patrol judging by the discarded clothes in the corner. He was baffled by the trust Pasiphae seemed to have in him. He couldn't imagine why he wasn't in a cage with his friends. Was it a rule of diplomacy that an invited guest had to be well treated? He really didn't know. Although there was a guard posted at the door so his confinement wasn't entirely cordial.

The rest of the day was interminable. Jason alternated between lying on the cot and pacing the tent, waiting for night to fall, chafing to make his departure from the camp. He'd seen and heard enough, and was ready to return to Atlantis. He was grateful that Pasiphae didn't seek his presence again that day, obviously giving him the night to consider her proposal, and in the long hours of the afternoon he pondered the circumstances in which he found himself. Not even slightly was he tempted to become Pasiphae's second in command. The idea of spending his days allied to her was unthinkable. She had already been defeated once in her quest for Atlantis, he could much better serve the city by remaining within its walls, than by staying close to Pasiphae. And he couldn't quite understand her motives. Why would she place any importance on him. Because he had retaken the Palladium? Because he had fought well against her army? Neither of those things had he done individually and it seemed odd to single him out. And the timing of the offer was strange. Pasiphae was only defeated two days ago, what made her think he might be persuaded to join a camp in tatters? Did she think that the destruction of the city fresh in his mind might motivate him to prevent it from happening again? The whole thing was odd. Even after two years in ancient Greece he couldn't quite get a handle on the customs and people of this time, he always felt like he was missing something. But he had to admit, the adventure had been a welcome diversion from moping about Ariadne.

When the sky was black, and movement outside had abated, Jason drew out the small knife secreted at his wrist and slashed the wall of the tent. He cautiously poked his head through, made sure no guards were in the vicinity, and climbed out.

He had no idea where his friends were. There were only two guards on patrol in the camp and he had no trouble avoiding them as he explored the area, trying to find where two caged men might be kept. When he had reconnoitred the entire area without success he stopped and scratched his head. Then he looked into the inky blackness beyond the camp, and could just make out shapes in the distance. He jogged over, hoping fervently that the guards weren't in a position to notice him.

He discovered his friends in wooden cages not nearly big enough to contain them. Both were laying on their side with their knees drawn to their chest and Hercules was snoring loudly, which Jason found amusing. Pythagoras stirred as soon as Jason drew close, and sat up.

"Jason!"

The utter relief in his friend's voice made Jason wince. "I'm sorry. I didn't come earlier in case I was seen."

"No, no, I knew you were coming," Pythagoras assured warmly. "And I am very glad to see you."

Jason jerked a thumb toward Hercules. "He seems quite comfortable in there.  Do you think we should leave him?"

Hercules roused at Jason's voice. "What?" He stretched out a leg and bumped it against the side of the cage, growling in frustration. "This is inhuman," he muttered, and rolled into a sitting position, a similar pose to Pythagoras. It was then that he noticed Jason, and his face stretched into a grin.

"Thank the Gods," Hercules sighed. Then added hopefully, "I don't suppose you brought food."

Jason reached inside his tunic and produced a cloth parcel. He handed it through the bars to Hercules who unwrapped the material, and whimpered in delight when he saw Jason's evening meal contained within. "Ask me to marry you."

Jason chuckled. "No, because you might say yes." He gave Pythagoras an apologetic look. "I'm afraid that's all I have."

"Don't worry. I can contain my appetite until we return to Atlantis."

There was little difficulty in Jason opening the cages, he used the small knife to saw through the bindings holding the bars together. He kept flicking his eyes toward the camp, watchful for anyone approaching, but the patrol of the guards didn't appear to extend beyond the line of tents, and the breakout was never in danger of being interrupted. Jason thought idly that if he was second in command he might suggest security be tightened. But then Pasiphae was probably more concerned about people entering the camp than leaving it. The men finally spilled out of the enclosures ungracefully, and painfully extended their legs, working away the cramp of confinement. Removing the manacles at their wrists was a easy as lifting the bolt at each cuff.

"Horses," Hercules demanded, mouthing around a piece of bread.

Jason peered uncertainly toward the camp. There were horses, he had seen them, but horses were loud and unruly, they would likely draw attention.

Pythagoras echoed Jason's thoughts when he said, "Surely we should make a quick escape and not press our luck."

"We could get back to Atlantis in a quarter of the time with horses," Hercules insisted.

"No," Jason returned decisively. It seemed foolish to re-enter the camp and risk getting caught when their escape on foot was assured. Before Hercules could complain further he took the first few steps on their return journey to Atlantis, forcing Hercules to grudgingly follow.

* * *

"Jason and his friends are gone." Goran, the Colchean general, kept his eyes respectfully lowered, and braced himself for the outburst that might follow.

Pasiphae was perched on pillows in her bed, awake with the dawn but not yet presentable to the camp. When the general had requested an audience despite her indisposition she figured it had to be important, and granted him entry. She sniffed at the news he brought, annoyed but not at all surprised. Her son was resourceful, the only way she could have forced his continued presence at the camp would have been to restrain him and she didn't wish to set that tone for their relationship.

"How many dead?" she asked.

"None."

Pasiphae raised her brows in surprise. "Not even the guard at his door?"

"No Majesty."

She pressed her lips together. Jason could probably have slain the whole camp while they slept if he was so minded, that he didn't, that he didn't even slay one man, showed real short-sightedness on his part. His lack of ruthlessness dismayed her, it was a character flaw that needed addressing.

"Thank you," she dismissed the man. Her encounter with Jason may be over but she was certain she would see him again. Their paths were intertwined, and had been for a while, meeting again was inevitable.

Goran hesitated before leaving, drew in a breath and said, "You never told me why Jason was invited to the camp. It was a dangerous move. Was it worth it?"

Pasiphae regarded him thoughtfully. "Time will tell."

* * *

Hours away from Pasiphae's camp, the men rested beside a stream, comfortable that the lushness of the forest would protect them, shelter them from any of Pasiphae's men that might be in pursuit. 

"What do you think that was all about?" Jason ventured, as he lay on the ground with his hands behind his head, staring at the canopy of trees above. "With Pasiphae?"

Hercules shot a warning look to Pythagoras, and replied lightly, "I think you are the hero of Atlantis. And Pasiphae thought removing you from the city, would bring the city undone."

Jason chewed it over for a moment, then tilted his head to look at Pythagoras. "What about you? What do you think?"

Pythagoras averted his gaze uncomfortably, but after some consideration was able to return honest eyes to Jason as he solemnly answered, "I think Pasiphae sees the value in you. I believe having you by her side would be equal to being queen of Atlantis."

Jason huffed a disbelieving laugh. "I don't think that's it."

Pythagoras could only smile sadly at his friend, who was unaware that his mother wanted him close, was trying to establish a relationship.

* * *

Safely back at their house in Atlantis, Jason immediately felt the weight of depression settle over him. The familiar surroundings reminded him of his troubles, of Ariadne, and he sat at the table cradling his head in his hands.

Hercules recognized the despondent expression and lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're tired."

"We're all tired."

"Yes, but you need sleep like I need wine."

Jason chuckled, then tipped his head quizzically. "Wait. Is that an insult? Are you saying I sleep too much?"

Hercules blinked, unsure how Jason had found offence in a flippant comment. "I'm saying you should go to bed."

Jason didn't feel like arguing, he really was exhausted, although he felt a little ashamed that neither of his friends was falling into bed. He rose wearily from the table, but then planted the knuckles of his fists onto the wooden surface, and dropped his head.

"What?" Hercules prompted.

Jason regarded him uncertainly. "Do you think I should tell Ariadne? About the meeting with Pasiphae?"

"No," Hercules replied immediately. And the answer was honest, not just an attempt to keep Jason from a source of pain. "Nothing came out of that meeting that Ariadne needs to know about."

Hercules didn't add that he intended to send a note to Ariadne's guard, alerting them to Pasiphae's whereabouts. Better for Jason to think they had no accountability to the Queen.

Jason nodded, and gave a small regretful smile before wandering over to his modest cot and dropping onto it heavily.

Hercules watched after him fondly, and felt the gravity of the role the Gods had asked him to play.  Protecting royalty.  A man entirely unaware of his origins.  He fervently hoped he could keep his friend safe.

**The End**


End file.
